I'm a Wanted Man
by Nostromo-8013
Summary: Basically, going to be a collection of connected (or not. Some will just be oneshots and hcs) fics, based around everyone's favorite gun-slinging future cowboy. Chapter 1: McCree's first encounter with Overwatch doesn't end too well.
1. Chapter 1

The sun was particularly hot today, beating mercilessly down upon everything, leaving nothing untouched. Every single exposed surface was hot as hell.

"Come on kid! We'll leave ya behind if ya can't keep up!" Gordo shouted as he dashed to his motorcycle. Jesse huffed and ensured the bag of cash was secure on his own before pushing the thing along for a moment, ignoring the searing pain that nearly left burns on his hands, even through his thin gloves, and ignoring the shouts of the gang until he heard equally angry shouting behind him. Some dicks in Overwatch uniforms. Great. Just what he needed.

Jesse grumbled and hopped up on his motorcycle and revved the thing up and burned rubber to follow after his gang, his relief at escape was short-lived when he heard the shots from the pulse rifle. He yelped and quickly swerved noting with dismay that his pursuers were following suit...on notably faster vehicles. The kid grit his teeth and drew his revolver as he steadied his bike and turned, taking aim to shoot out a wheel from under the blond douchebag who was gaining steadily. Jesse cursed, yanking the handlebars hard to avoid getting shot off his bike by a helix rocket, he nearly lost control of his bike and very nearly dropped his beloved revolver.

His gang had left him far behind, but, he thought, and rather smugly at that, that he had another guy's share as well. In addition to the money, they had stolen something of particular value, some element used in those new German exosuits or new weapon stuff, he wasn't sure, but all he cared about, was the money.

Poor, slow Gordo- though the Sparks that flew off his handlebar and at his face, made the boy think maybe he was the slow one at this particular moment.

Once he righted himself he quickly twisted and fired, with only a quick glance back. He was rewarded with a satisfying yelp and crash as his second pursuer went down, the bike going tumbling, kicking up the Utah dust as they went. Sweat dripped into his eyes, burning them, but he frantically wiped them away, swerving madly to avoid the volley of pulse rifle bolts as they hit the ground beside him.

 _God,_ he thought, _if I ev-_

Jesse never got to finish his thought as a lucky shot blew out his front tire and he went flying over the handlebars, screaming all the way.

His bike hurtled towards him as well, landing clean on his arm and sliding immediately after that. Between the weight of the thing and the sharp rocks beneath, the boy could feel it shredding his limb, but he was too dazed to scream and only offered the most pathetic squeak of his life.

The blond jerk came rumbling up on his vehicle, and hopped off, pulse rifle at the ready, pointed straight at his head. Jesse could only cough and wheeze and vainly try to reach his gun that was laying maybe two, three feet from his head, but he was damned, his arm pinned beneath the hot bike, slowly cooking under it.

The second dumbass came rolling up as well, and when standing, for some dumb reason, Jesse noticed he was taller…what the hell did that have to do with this?

"You gonna kill me, ya best do so." He snarled weakly, glaring daggers up at the men who stood over him. "Cause' ya don't and I'll make sure ya regret it."

"Jack." The taller man rumbled, crossing his arms. "This is barely a kid."

"I know this type too well, Reyes. He's too far gone, never amount to anything." The douche- Jack, he raised his rifle and with an eerie sort of coldness leveled it at Jesse's head.

The kid's skinny chest rose and fell frantically as he blinked the dust away. "Go on!" He snapped and spat at them.

Gabriel growled, "For fuck's sake, Jack!" Gabriel moved over to shove the gun away. "What the hell's wrong with you? I swear since-" he shook his head, dropping off into angry mutterings.

"We're gonna give this little _puta_ a choice." He decided and carefully lifted the bike off of Jesse's arm. "And he's going to choose correctly." Gabriel's eyes widened when he saw the mangled, shattered mess of Jesse's arm and his gaze fell upon his young face. He couldn't have been more than eighteen, no less than fifteen...he was practically a child and here he was, premature scruff on his jaw, and a glint as hard as any old timer in a county prison in his eye. "Ah shit, kid…" he muttered and took off his jacket, quickly wrapping his arm up as best he could. Jesse grunted with the pain, that quickly gave way to agonized squeals of pain. "Jack, I need some pain meds."

Morrison growled but quickly measured the stuff out in a syringe from the bottle he retrieved from the bag on his bike. "I don't get why you're tryin' Gabe…" he growled and Reyes gave Jack a look.

"I get it, man. I do. You hate the Deadlock gang. But look...I can't believe I gotta spell this all out for you." He shook his head.

Jack scoffed, "I know exactly what he could be good for, but the fact of the matter is...if he'll cooperate- and if it's worth expending energy to get him to do so."

Gabriel sighed, watching the boy's face relax when he administered the morphine. "Fair enough, but listen. You won't have to be part of it. He'll be my…" Reyes trailed off momentarily. "Project." He decided and made sure the jacket was secure and scooped up the boy. "Lena should be along with the shuttle momentarily." He said and glanced to Jack, who refused to meet his own gaze.

"Let's just get him back to base." The commander huffed.


	2. Chapter 2

McCree's eyes flickered open weakly and he blinked up into the hideous fluorescent lighting. How long had he been out…? The boy groaned and sat up, rather groggily at that and almost uncomprehendingly looked at the monitors attached to him. He slowly ripped each one out and set the monitors on the fritz and quickly stood, swaying a little as he did. Where the-?

In some Overwatch base then? The infirmary.

Jesus he was weak... Jesse hesitated when he noticed something very wrong; his left arm was just...not there. He raised his arm, which was simply a heavily bandaged stump.

 _Oh god, nonononono. This couldn't be- what?_

The boy staggered frantically and crashed into the collection of monitors behind him and grunted in pain. How long had he been out? Where the- well, he could guess where he was- and where the hell was-

The door to his room slid open and the most beautiful woman McCree had ever seen rushed in.

"You shouldn't be up!" She barked, sounding angry. "Get back into bed, ah ah, don't mind the monitors." She scolded gently and nudged Jesse back into his bed

"Am I dreamin'?" Jesse wondered aloud and he turned his groggy gaze on this woman who looked damn near angelic at the moment.

"Nein." Said the lady, "Just a little delirious. You'll be alright."

"How long I been out, doc?" The boy muttered after a few moments of trying to get his spinning head under control.

"A week."

Jesse coughed slightly, "You're shittin' me…"

"I'm afraid not," the woman sighed. "Just rest. You'll need it, Jesse." With that, the doctor turned to leave to get someone to help her clean up the mess.

"You got a name?" Jesse rasped, surprised by how dry and weak his voice was due to lack of use for an entire week.

" _Ja._ Angela. Angela Ziegler. It's...a pleasure." The woman- "Angela" said, forcing a smile.

He supposed he'd be forcing smiles too if he was talking to a painfully obvious lost cause.

The kid just nodded, offering a slight grin. "That's a beautiful name, ma'am." He said and heaved a sigh, sinking back into his bed.

With that, he fell asleep once more, no matter how he tried not to. Dammit. He wasn't gonna let them do…

He was vaguely aware of a voice later on that startled him from his sleep.

No, two voices.

"...he ready?" That douchebag- Gabriel...right?

"He's just a boy, Gabriel." That was Angela.

"I understand that, Ziegler. I've got a plan, no need to worry." He said and waved her off.

Jesse drifted back into sleep after that.

That didn't sound good, for him at least.

Therefore, he wasn't the least bit surprised to wake up in a chair, in an interrogation room.

Ha.

What losers, he was no stranger to interrogating tactics.

He looked up when he sensed movement in the dark, "What, you wanna find out where my gang goes? What they wanna do with that shit they took from that vault? Fat chance, asshole."

"Your spunk is admirable."

Ah great. The insufferable one. Jack, was his name right? Jesse would shoot himself if he could. Genuinely would. There were many things Jesse could not abide, sci-fi bullshit, sugared coffee...just to name a few things, but most of all, he could not stand pompous assholes who strutted about like fat roosters, acting like they owned everything.

"Yeah and your fashion choice is shit."

Jack chuckled. "Ya know, I know someone who was a lot you, kid."

"Ya know, I really don't give a rat's ass." Jesse spat. "Just get to the point, jackass."

Morrison rolled his eyes. "I was going to go easy on you, you know…" he mused and moved to the kid's side, eyes icy and cold.

"Where's your gang holed up?"

"You know, after you flushed our last base, I'd have thought you'd be able to figure that out yourself." The kid spat. Jack smiled before moving over, getting close.

"Listen...I haven't got anything better to do today. We can play like this forever. It won't matter to me." He said.

"Go to hell." Jesse grumbled and head-butted Jack square in the nose, sending the older man stumbling back, holding his nose and cursing angrily. "Why you lit-" he raised his hand to strike the kid, who glared defiantly up at him, teeth bared like he was some feral kid, which...in all honesty, he practically was.

Gabriel came in then. "Jack!" He barked. "That's quite enough. Go see Angela." The guy said and nudged his bleeding friend out into the hall. "Go on. I'll handle this." He waited until Jack was off, well on his way.

"I didn't notice how shrimpy you were, kid." Gabriel laughed.

"You come to Lord over me too? Jackass…" Jesse growled and scratched his neck.

"No, boy, I've come to offer you a deal." Gabriel said and plopped down in a chair across from him. "Look, this life... it's not gonna end well. It nearly ended for you already. You damn near died before we could get you to base, you know."

Jesse scoffed, "You shoulda let me." He grumbled, crossing his...well, he would have. "Look, you might as well kill me and get this over with." He said and shrugged.

Gabriel sighed, "Kid,"

"And stop calling me kid. I got a name. It's Jesse." He muttered.

"Fine. Jesse," Gabriel relented and offered a smile. "You can come work for us. We already have a prosthetic in the works for you, that I'm sure will be a little more accurate-"

"I'm the deadest shot in the damn gang, ain't no prosthetic gonna make me better. If anything, I'll be worse." Jesse growled. "Besides, why would I work for you? Huh? You got me a death sentence if I ever see my old pals again."

"It won't be like that, Jesse. Believe me. You help us find them, and I promise you, you won't rot in prison." Gabriel fancied he saw a glimmer of something in the kid's eyes then.

"You don't mean that." Jesse said.

"I got offered the same deal. You come work for us, you can have some kind of life, Jesse. A better life, doing the right thing. And right now, we could use a good kid like you."

"I Ain't good." Jesse sighed, "And stop calling me kid." He muttered. "Ain't like I got a choice is it?"

Gabriel sighed and looked the boy over, remembering a kid very much like this in that exact seat, with the same look on his face and the same brave words on his tongue. That wasn't so long ago. "You always have a choice, boy. You can go back, live fast, die Young, or you can come with us and live a good life, doing good." He explained.

"Besides, we need someone who ain't afraid of bloodying up the great strike commander from time to time." He said, chuckling. "What do you say?"

"Do I get my gun back?" Jesse asked. "And my hat?"

"Your...hat?" Gabe looked confused.

"Well, I always wanted a hat. Y'know, like those old cowboy movies. With Clint Eastwood, like." He insisted. "I won't do it if I don't get a hat. Oh, and if I don't get to hassle that pompous jerk sometimes."

Gabriel chuckled at that. "Alright then." He said and reached out a hand to shake.

"Welcome to Blackwatch, Jesse McCree."

McCree hesitated. "Blackwatch…?"

Gabriel offered a smile. "Mhmm."


End file.
